TITLE: Prelude
spoilers for Happenstance
AUTHOR: Macx
RATING: NC-17
PAIRING: Gil/Nick
ARCHIVE: yes
DISCLAIMER: CSI belongs to CBS, Alliance Atlantic, Jerry Bruckheimer, Anthony E. Zuiker and whoever else claims rights. We don't. Nu-uh! We just play with 'em.
The Denuo universe was created by Lara Bee and myself
Macx's Voice of Warning (aka Authors' Note): English is not our first language; it's German. This is the best we can do. Any mistakes you find in here, collect them and you might win a prize <g> The spell-checker said everything's okay, but  you know how trustworthy those thingies are....
 
 

'Dear Mr. Grissom.'

The man in question looked at the letter, the bold 'Williams' of the Williamstown College jumping in the eye of every reader. He had read and reread the letter countless times, but Gil Grissom was hard pressed to voice his emotions or thoughts whenever he read over the answer to an inquiry he had started a few weeks back.

Williams College hadn't been the only one to reply favourably to his inquest and now he had five letters sitting on his desk, from various teaching colleges or universities, all vying for his favour, for his knowledge, for his name.

A renowned name in the field of entomology. That was him. He had given countless lessons, had taught aspiring criminalists and even the seasoned ones, had led seminars, had attended lectures, had presented papers. Dr. Gil Grissom was a name in the area of both crime scene analysis and entomology.

All letters were worded as invitations for the winter term, some allowing the hope for a return in summer. Grissom wasn't looking for long-term employment, though.

"Hey," a voice announced the presence of a second person in the room.

Grissom glanced over his reading glasses and smiled at the handsome man who had just entered their living room. Nick was still wearing the black shirt and blue jeans he had when leaving and the outfit, as simple as it was, always gave Grissom a matter of appreciation for his lover's handsomeness. Nick would be the last to say he was choosing his clothes to be attractive, but this combination did something to Grissom that nothing else easily could.

"Another one?" Nick now asked curiously.

"Yes."

Stokes walked over to him and took a peek. "Williamstown? That's in Massachusetts, right?"

"Yes."

Most of the universities and colleges that had responded were from the east coast.

"One more to choose from," Nick commented, smiling playfully.

"Apparently."

Nick affectionately squeezed one shoulder. "Don't make it too hard on yourself. Just pick one."

Grissom grimaced. Nick smiled.

They had talked about this, long and in detail. Actually Nick had been very supportive about the idea of taking a sabbatical for a few months, just get away and clear his mind.

"You might be a Phoenix," his lover had said, "but that doesn't mean you can't burn out."

And that was what he was heading for. A burn-out. Grissom could feel it. Ecklie had told him to either go on a vacation, get treatment, ask a shaman for help, or take a sabbatical. Since psych evals didn't really sound very helpful to Grissom, and he knew that both Nandi and Ecklie weren't exactly the people to turn to for psychological help of such a degree, he had taken the choice of a sabbatical. Conrad had been a great help with Nick, but that had been different. Nick was different. Grissom doubted he could unwind enough to let Conrad Ecklie help, and Ecklie himself hadn't offered.

He needed this time out.

Badly. Before things turned serious.

With Ecklie on his own sabbatical of sorts, a lot of the pressure had returned for the supervisor. Conrad Ecklie had taken his own time out to work on his shamanic powers a lot more, to take control of what was his heritage, and while he had been back once or twice, he hadn't taken back the reigns of CSI. That would change in the next weeks. Ecklie was supposed to come back just before Grissom took his leave.

A strong but gentle hand massaged his neck and Grissom felt himself leaning into the welcome touch. Nick placed a kiss on his head as he continued to knead the tense muscles. They wouldn't see much of each other in that time. Winter term seminar meant that Grissom would teach and flying back and forth was both straining and costly.

"This is about you," had been Stokes' answer. "Not me. I'm your lover, your partner and your friend, Gil, but this is your health. I'll stand behind whatever you decide. And we have a very long time together to look forward to," had been the amused addition.

Because Grissom was a Phoenix and Nick a Mimic who had so thoroughly attached himself to Grissom, he was Mimicking the Phoenix. Death was not permanent as long as they didn't get shot in the head or heart, or got decapitated. Or blown up. There were rather hideous circumstances that could kill even a Phoenix or a vampire, for that matter.

Grissom had been a bachelor for most of his life by now and only in the past years had someone found his way into that life, that strange and secluded and sometimes weird life of a man who enjoyed strange hobbies, had a gruesome job, and mostly kept to himself. He wasn't a misanthrope, but people fascinated him like a scientist, not as a fellow human being.

Until Nick Stokes.

Grissom had no idea just when his defences had fallen and when Nick had become such a permanent fixture, but it had been before they had found together as a couple, before their sexual relationship. Nick had been a colleague, then subordinate, a friend, a fellow scientist, and slowly, very, very slowly something else had developed. That it would be more than a simple relationship had come later, when the paranormal had entered the equation, and by now Nick was part of him in so many ways, it was almost scary.

Almost.

They would be separated for about half a year. Nick might squeeze in a flight to wherever Grissom decided to go, but that was about it. Gil told himself he could do six months on his own, that he wasn't suddenly dependent, but he knew it would be hard. And Nick, who was such a people person, would feel the separation, too.

"Any favourites?" Nick asked calmly, interrupting his thoughts.

"Brown," Grissom answered, eyes closed, enjoying the touch.

"Never heard of it."

"Rhode Island. They have a good science department."

"Criminal science or bugs?"

Grissom smiled. "Entomology, Nick."

"Bugs," his lover repeated. He leaned down and kissed Grissom. "When will you make your decision?"

"Next week."

"Okay."

No panic, no frenzy, no fear. Nick was so calm and serene about it, he was so completely Nick. As much as Nick was an emotional man, he could be a rock in a stormy sea. The meditation exercises had helped shape this serenity, Grissom had found out a while ago. His lover was dealing with past events a lot better, was even able to stretch out a helping hand when it came to their friends and allies. Greg had gone through a rough time and Nick had been there for him in his own way.

"Aren't you and Warrick going to a game this afternoon?" Grissom suddenly asked.

"Yeah. I'm picking him up in two hours. Why? Wanna come along?"

That got Nick a grimace and he grinned. Grissom didn't usually go to see games, though he was known to study them when Nick was watching one on TV.

"Oh, and Franklin called on my cell, said Ecklie's coming back next week, so you can work out how to present this to everyone else."

Grissom nodded. They already had a plan and he knew it would work. Their allies knew about Grissom's time out, and Greg and Hodges had agreed that it was necessary. It would serve no one if Grissom broke down. A Phoenix only regenerated from physical damage. An injured psyche was not easily repaired.

So far, it was only stress and his reaction to it. Normal, too. Nothing serious or permanent yet. He had to be careful and he had to heed the early signs. Grissom did, which was why he was now reading application answers.

Gil rose and suddenly pulled Nick into his arms, kissing him, holding on like a drowning man as Nick responded to the needy kiss in kind. Kissing and nipping at the soft lips, feeling the scrape of afternoon stubble, Grissom trailed a path to the strong neck, teeth scraping briefly over sensitive skin. Nick shivered a little, fingers clenching into Grissom's shirt. Gil slipped one hand under the black shirt, feeling another shiver, and he pushed Nick against the wall to have as much bodily contact as he could.

They remained like this, Grissom just seeking closeness, and Nick caressed his back. Their sex life had been marked by a lot more cuddling and comforting lately, a sure sign of how bad it looked. Grissom wanted more, but he lacked the energy.

"Want me to stay?" Nick murmured.

"No. Go."

"Warrick would understand."

"But I won't," Grissom answered, gazing into the liquid brown eyes. "Go. I'm fine."

"Sure?"

"Yes. Very."

Still there was doubt and Grissom knew he couldn't erase it. He would make his choice tonight, write the letter to the chosen teaching institution, and then he would plan everything else.

Nick kissed him again, smiling a little. "Okay."
 
 

Nick left for the game after he was showered and dressed, but not without a kiss good-bye, the offer to stay home still unspoken in his eyes. Grissom made himself a mug of tea and chose the couch for some light reading in the form of the latest stack of entomological articles he had collected.

His thoughts turned to his partner. They had been a steady couple for such a long time now, but Nick's body still excited him, his mind challenged him, and he loved the younger man with everything he had. Nandi had once commented on the connection they shared, as had Caine, before he had died. The raven was connected to the phoenix as a spirit animal and the raven was Nick's representation. Even without the Mimic so closely Mimicking the Phoenix, both men were interwoven on a spiritual level.

For a man of science, the spirit world had been fascinating, an alien territory, new ground. Grissom had learned a lot about it in recent years and it kept his interest like entomology, or like crime scenes. He knew shamans and spirit walker, and he knew himself and Nick. This was as incredible as it was fascinating, and he would never tire of it.

The tiredness currently in his system stemmed not from Nick. It was his own need to recharge, to get away from his work, from the deranged minds of serial killers and senseless death.
 

It was how he fell asleep, with the journals still around him, the tea empty, the reading lights on.